Biting the Bullet
by CounterKnight291543
Summary: 'Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.' - Sun Tzu, The Art of War. When the bullets start flying, dying is the last thing on Kirishima's mind... A Kiribaku smut one-shot that I might make a series out of! The wartime AU is of course entirely fictitious.


Biting the Bullet

As a child, the forest had always been a place of wonder for Eijirou Kirishima.

It was magical, stirring within him a sense of curiosity that sparked his imagination and creativity like nothing else. Its mystique was unmatched, as was the silence. Sounds were often lost in amongst the foliage, stolen by the leaves and whispered into the wind. Such tranquillity was broken only by the soothing melodies of the forest's avian inhabitants, making it an ideal place for quiet contemplation, as well as idle adventure.

Kirishima no longer held this view.

Crouched in his small dugout cut into the forest floor, he wondered how such an illusion was so easily shattered. He gripped his rifle and breathed, watching as his breath materialised in front of him.

 _War_.

War had taken the forest and all its beauty, all its serenity, and stripped it bare, leaving behind a husk as hollow and lifeless as the trees contained within. These trees, once lush and verdant, now lay rotting; uprooted and mangled by the relentless march of tanks and men. In a frenzy of metal and fire, they had left the earth scorched and barren. Only a few pockets of woodland remained.

It was within one of these pockets that Kirishima had spent the last three weeks. He occupied a small "foxhole," essentially a shallow ditch with logs of wood arranged frontally to protect from incoming fire. A towering tree beside it, one of the few left standing, provided additional cover. As for walls, there weren't any – the hole simply wasn't deep enough. An assortment of twigs and dead leaves took their place. This is where the luxury ended, however. The ground was a fetid mess, a quagmire of mud and silt churned by constant downpours of torrential rain. The weather here ensured conditions were always a hundred times worse than what they should have been. Even now it rained; a light drizzle sure, but enough to soak everything through.

Still, Kirishima reasoned it was better than snow. With this in mind, he crawled over to a box of ammunition and closed its lid. Now on his knees, he straightened out his uniform and adjusted his helmet. He tipped it back, water dripping lazily from its rim, and looked up at the tree beside him. Its winding, leafless branches climbed and twisted up towards the heavens, reaching a clouded, overcast sky. High above the clouds, fighter planes ducked and weaved, their presence detectable only by the dull droning of their engines.

Kirishima brought his attention back down to earth. This, after all, was where it belonged. He had a duty to fight, no matter how bad things got down here. That wasn't the whole reason though.

He smiled as his eyes fell upon the only thing that had got him this far. Slumped in the corner, his head resting on the emplacement of logs, was his best friend and fellow soldier, Katsuki Bakugou. He was snoring lightly, his helmet tipped slightly forwards to cover his eyes. His blue and white uniform was wet and dishevelled, his pants and boots mired with patches of mud. A bandolier of grenades hung loosely from his shoulder.

Bakugou was one of the finest soldiers Kirishima had ever seen. He was a live-wire sure, but he was brave and daring, never showing an ounce of panic or fear. He had saved his life more times than he could count. Kirishima respected him, admired him, and _loved_ him. This love ran deeper than mere comradeship and camaraderie, however. Unbeknownst to Bakugou, he had developed something of a crush on him. Of course, nothing could ever come of these feelings. Aside from the impossibility of Bakugou feeling the same, the military would simply not allow it – relationships between soldiers was a flagrant breach of army policy. Kirishima's feelings would have to stay hidden.

He crawled on over to his friend and lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. His chest rose and fell peacefully, but aside from that the sleeping boy did not move. Satisfied, Kirishima slowly raised his head above the logs and tentatively peered out. He scanned the area ahead before ducking back down. He had to be careful; the landscape was littered with dead trees and dips in the terrain, perfect for concealing enemy machine gun nests. He cautiously took another look, this time grabbing a pair of binoculars from beside him. As he lifted them up to his face, he noticed a flash way off in the distance.

He didn't have time to react. The shot rang out through the forest and travelled towards him at tremendous pace, whistling past his ear before lodging in the tree beside him, mere centimetres from his head. He fell backwards into the mud, dazed. Bakugou jolted awake and immediately grabbed for his rifle.

"For fuck's sake," he cursed, loading his weapon. "What did you do this time, shitty hair?"

Kirishima just lay on his back staring up at the sky, his hands shaking a little. Bakugou shook his head.

"Stop being so curious, it'll get you killed." He aggressively slid back the bolt of his rifle. "Where was he?"

Bakugou's voice seemed to bring Kirishima back to reality.

"B-By the rocks, fifty, maybe sixty metres."

"I can never get a minute's peace around here," Bakugou mumbled, taking up a crouching position behind the logs. With a deep breath, he raised his weapon and emerged from cover, firing off eight rounds in quick succession. He ducked back down again and hastily replaced his magazine.

"You get him?" Kirishima sat up and rubbed the back of his head.

Bakugou placed a finger to his lips and shook his head.

"Not sure. Impossible to tell. Have to listen." He gestured for Kirishima to join him.

Gingerly, the redhead pushed his helmet back and shuffled over, keeping as low as possible. He squatted beside him, digging his heels into the dirt and leaning his back against the logs. They both began to listen, the hope of course being that their assailant was indeed dead or in the process of bleeding out. Only silence or screams would do.

They got neither. Instead, they could hear voices; hushed whispers drifting through the forest towards them. Craning his neck, Kirishima tried to poke his head up to take a look, but a hand on his helmet quickly forced him back down.

"What's going on?" Kirishima gave him a puzzled look.

"How the fuck should I-"

Bakugou's words were whipped from his mouth as an explosion of wood and dirt erupted behind them. A cacophony of noise accompanied it; a hurricane of steel and lead storming towards them with a thunderous roar. The sound was unmistakable. Only a machine gun could cause such pandemonium. It was like a buzzsaw, deafeningly loud and just as ferocious.

It caught Kirishima completely by surprise. As the bullets chewed into the logs at his back, shards of wood were thrown into the air, showering him with splinters and shrapnel. He fell forwards into their hole, landing gracelessly in the mud. His body instinctively curled into a ball and he clutched at his helmet desperately.

Bullets continued to pummel their position, totally eviscerating their makeshift defences. Kirishima's mind was blank, his body numb with fear. It was a situation he was familiar with, but that didn't make it any easier. Being scared of dying was something he had had to contend with from day one. What made him most afraid was the possibility of dying alone. He could thank his close attachment to Bakugou for that.

 _Bakugou_.

Kirishima's thoughts were suddenly filled with images of his friend. His eyes shooting open, he glanced beside him, peering through the cracks of his fingers. Sure enough, Bakugou lay there on his side, his legs by Kirishima's head. Something seemed off, however. His body was shaking. Fearing he was wounded or worse, Kirishima eased over onto his back and dug his heels into the dirt. Bullets raked the ground around them as he slid himself backwards until their heads were level and turned to face him. Kirishima blinked rapidly at the sight before him. If they weren't in the heat of battle, he might have gasped.

Bakugou was crying.

Kirishima had never seen him cry before. He didn't even think he was capable of crying. He was always so stoic and fearless; nothing could break him. If this was his limit, then maybe Bakugou knew it was all over? That this was… the end?

The thought didn't cross Kirishima's mind. He was too fixed on Bakugou's face. It was streaked with mud and painted with anguish. His eyes were screwed painfully shut, tears rolling freely down his cheeks. His helmet had been flung from his head, exposing matted blonde hair tinged with spots of blood. It broke Kirishima's heart. The bullets, the enemy, the war… none of it mattered when his best friend, the love of his life, was in this amount of pain. He had to do something.

His pounding heart compelling him, Kirishima shuffled closer. He reached out, his hand unusually steady, and grasped Bakugou's shoulder. When he didn't react, he moved his hand until it rested on the back of his neck. He then shuffled even closer. Not caring what it looked like or what was happening around them, he pulled him into a silent embrace. Bakugou didn't resist. Kirishima eased his head towards him until his face was resting against his chest. He held it there; cradling his head, his fingers nestling gently in his hair.

Their positioning was awkward and the ground wet, but it was the best he could do. Kirishima could feel Bakugou's whole body shake as he wept into his shirt. He wasn't slowing down, and neither were the machine gunners besieging their position. The hail of bullets was unrelenting.

After a few moments, Kirishima felt Bakugou's head tilt upwards, his mouth finding its way to his collar. He shivered slightly at the warmth of his breath and closed his eyes. He felt guilty for enjoying it, especially considering Bakugou's current state, but that guilt was far outweighed by the products of their intimacy. His feelings were strong enough to push everything else aside. He was still scared of course. The possibility of death was ever-present, always at the back of his mind. But in this moment, that's where it would stay. Nothing could touch him now.

Bakugou's crying gradually slowed. The barrage was letting up too; the enemy resorting to short bursts of fire as their weapons ran dry. Rain continued to fall from the sky.

Kirishima opened his eyes as he felt Bakugou stir. His grip loosened and his friend pulled back slightly, enough that he could see his face. His eyes were red and beneath the layers of mud, his cheeks splashed with colour. Caught up in the moment, his heart bleeding at the sight, Kirishima let his feelings get the better of him.

He clutched at his shoulder and blurted out, "Bakugou it's going to be okay! I'm here and I love you. You're safe."

Seconds later, the bullets stopped. Silence descended upon the pair. Kirishima realised what he had done, but it was too late. The pit of his stomach filled with dread as Bakugou's demeanour changed.

"What did you just say?" he asked, blinking the last of the tears from his eyes. The confusion in his voice was palpable, and Kirishima detected a hint of anger too.

He had royally screwed up. This was not the time or place for confessions of love. This was going to tear them apart if he didn't do something; he had to try and salvage their friendship.

"W-Well…" he stuttered. "I didn't mean… I-I… I meant it like-"

Kirishima's breath caught in his throat as Bakugou leaned in close, his mouth hovering tantalising close to his own, hot breath ghosting over his lips. After a moment of hesitation, Kirishima realised this was either an invitation or a test. But which?

He didn't stop to think. Closing his eyes, he leaned in and crashed their lips together.

The feeling was warm, the sensation indescribable. He had longed for this opportunity for five whole years and he wasn't about to waste it. He revelled in the heat of his lips as they slid effortlessly over his own, savouring every texture and every flavour. They were rough and chapped, a little coarse even, but the way they moved… they felt almost silken to the touch, like velvet. Kirishima could taste what he knew was mud, but that didn't bother him. There was a hint of something else too, something metallic and warm, possibly blood.

He grabbed a handful of Bakugou's hair and tried to deepen the kiss, completely losing himself to his emotions. Bakugou responded by pulling back and away, leaving Kirishima wanting.

"So you did mean it like that," Bakugou clipped, laying his head back in the mud.

Kirishima opened his eyes. He nodded; there was no point denying it now.

"Idiot… you wait until now to tell me that?!"

Kirishima simply blinked back at him. He wasn't sure what to say.

"I… I could never find the right time," he tried, squirming a little.

"And this is?!"

Kirishima fell silent.

"I love you too…" Bakugou grumbled, looking anywhere but his eyes.

"What?" Kirishima perked up, not sure if what he heard was correct.

"I said I fucking love you, alright?" Bakugou shot him an angry glare before making a grab for his collar. "Now fucking kiss me like you mean it."

He didn't need telling twice. Elated with his response, he grabbed Bakugou's cheeks with both hands and pulled him into a deep kiss. If not for their current predicament, he would have pulled him all the way on top of him. Laying side-on to each other was a little awkward, but Kirishima didn't care. He didn't care about anything but Bakugou. Even the war had slipped from his mind, this battle blurred into a distant memory. To him, this was an escape, and it was utter _perfection_.

He slid his tongue into Bakugou's mouth, desperate to explore what was finally his. He let out a breathy moan, the wet heat catching him a little off guard. Bakugou's tongue began to lap at his own, causing his breathing to quicken. The excitement building, Kirishima pushed and probed further, his tongue coasting over Bakugou's teeth to explore the roof of his mouth. They both vied for control, but it was Bakugou who was first to submit. He whined sharply, shuffling closer and bucking his hips. He began to grind shamelessly against Kirishima's crotch, signalling to his friend what he wanted and just how much he wanted it.

Kirishima wanted to oblige him, but was now really the right time?

"Baku…gou…" he whispered between kisses. "You… want this… now?"

Bakugou nodded fervently, rolling his hips once more. That was all the answer Kirishima needed. He responded by grabbing a fistful of his shirt, tugging on it until the buttons popped right off, exposing the inviting bare skin beneath. He splayed his hand on his chest, his palm flat, resting it gently over his heart. He felt it thundering as he dragged his hand downwards, his fingers feeling for every ridge and bump as they traversed his ribs. Heat poured into his cheeks as he got lower, fingers involuntarily stopping to admire his perfectly formed abs. He pushed on until he reached the top of his pants, hesitating as he arrived there.

A heat was now bubbling away in his stomach, his pants uncomfortably tight. There was something about their situation that made everything feel so much more intense. The danger was nothing short of exhilarating, the risk a shameless turn-on. The mud and the rain only added to it – Kirishima felt dirty in more ways than one. It was primal, almost animalistic…

Slipping his fingers under the beltline, he yanked until Bakugou's pants and underwear were part way down his thighs, kissing him fiercely as he did so. Bakugou whined, shifting his body and legs until they were all the way down to his ankles. Kirishima stopped for a moment to admire Bakugou's naked form, gazing in awe at his dripping erection. He watched with excitement as he tried to grind helplessly against him, smearing his pants with precum.

Kirishima's cock was hard and ready, straining for relief, but he couldn't take care of that just yet. He had waited too long to touch Bakugou's body. Leaning into him, he pulled from their kiss and went to work on his neck, grabbing him roughly by the cock as he did so. Bakugou moaned, Kirishima's sharp teeth sinking deep into his flesh. As he sucked gleefully on his skin, Kirishima worked his cock with his hand, admiring its impressive length. He stroked it lightly, his grip intentionally loose, teasing him.

"More…" Bakugou breathed, pressing his forehead into the dirt as he tried not to moan. Kirishima simply bit down harder, breaking his resolve (and his skin) almost immediately. He also quickened his strokes, his hand inevitably slick with a mixture of mud, water and precum. Bakugou's body shook as Kirishima finally removed his mouth from the crook of his neck, a fresh bruise flowering in its place. Satisfied with his work, Kirishima locked lips with him once more, his focus shifting. His own cock was aching for attention, desperate for relief. He let go of Bakugou and fumbled with his pants, yanking them down as fast he could. His erection quickly sprang free, the rush of cool air catching him by surprise. Even more of a surprise was Bakugou's fingers curling around the tip – he didn't expect him to be as greedy as he was.

"Ahhh…" Kirishima moaned into his mouth, Bakugou sliding his hand effortlessly up and down his cock. The movement was hungry and desperate, like he had lost almost all control. Kirishima bit down on the blonde's lip, feeling the intensity between them. He grasped at his cock and stroked, moaning a little as Bakugou ramped up the pace in response. Kirishima complied, pumping his cock as quickly as he could. Bakugou's hand soon fell away, his body becoming noticeably more tense. Kirishima knew he was close, but he wouldn't let him finish just yet. Much to Bakugou's annoyance, he loosened his grip and slowed.

"Fucking give it to me, make me cum already…" Bakugou begged, breaking their kiss. He sounded so breathless and needy; Kirishima couldn't get enough. This was a side to him he had longed to see.

"Ssshh," he replied, shifting his body so that their hips were all but aligned. Their cocks twitched side-by-side, brushing together lightly. Kirishima knew exactly how he wanted this to end. Taking Bakugou's lips once more, he reached down and roughly grasped their cocks together, both boys letting out stifled moans as they met. He began to stroke them in unison, this time much faster and a lot harder. They were so close together now, their bodies pressed flush against each other; there was barely enough room for Kirishima's hand to work. He still managed to find a rhythm though and within seconds he could feel his own body begin to tense, the knot in his stomach tightening. Bakugou was in a similar position, his body beginning to shake uncontrollably.

"Ah… Ahh… Ahhhh…" Bakugou threw his head back and moaned, unable to hold on. He came almost immediately, his body trembling as hot cum shot from his cock, coating Kirishima's uniform and hand. The redhead wasn't far behind. The pulsing of Bakugou's cock and the heat of his release was enough to send him hurtling over the edge, the knot in his stomach finally unravelling. He cried out, his muscles spasming as he came; cum spilling forth to paint Bakugou's chest white.

After a moment of pure ecstasy, Kirishima's hand dropped into the mud. For a few blissful seconds they both lay still, bodies racked with pleasure, minds blank. It had been awkward and messy but given the circumstance, it was the best they could do. Neither boy was going to argue that.

Bakugou was the first to act. He pulled his pants up lazily and reached for his helmet. He strapped it back on his head and lay back down, wiping the cum from his chest before attempting to rebutton his shirt. The silence felt a little awkward.

"Let's hope nobody heard that," Kirishima joked, hoping to lighten the mood.

"If I'm going to die then that's how I want to go out." Bakugou was deadly serious.

Kirishima couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny shitty hair?"

"Nothing, nothing," he smiled, redressing his lower half. "Just… just don't go dying on me, okay?"

Bakugou furrowed his brow and frowned.

"I'm not going to-"

"Just promise me…" Kirishima snatched his hand up and interlocked their fingers. There was a hint of desperation in his voice.

Bakugou's features softened.

"Alright, I promise." His pledge was serious, his intention genuine. "But that goes for you too, okay?"

Kirishima simply nodded and closed his eyes, content. He could never have envisioned this.

The war had brought the world to the brink of annihilation. It had brought death and destruction. It had brought darkness. But for Kirishima, it had also brought hope.

It had brought him _Bakugou_.


End file.
